


A Love Story

by Tavyn



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Captain Canary Secret Santa, F/M, Romance, Snowed In
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-11
Updated: 2020-01-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:49:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22215838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tavyn/pseuds/Tavyn
Summary: "The story goes like this," she read. "In a time long forgotten, and a land long swallowed by old empires and older kingdoms, there once was a demon king who fell in love with a witch."Sara reads Leonard a Russian fairy tale.
Relationships: Sara Lance/Leonard Snart
Comments: 8
Kudos: 63





	A Love Story

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dragonydreams](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonydreams/gifts).



> For Dragonydreams! I'm sorry this Secret Santa story is so late-life has been tough lately-but I really hope you had a great holiday and that you enjoy it! And, since it's so late, this story gives you two stories in one, plus it's my first M-rated story too :) The Russian fairy tale portion is inspired by the Winternight Trilogy by Katherine Arden, which I highly recommend if you like grown-up fairy tales/historical fiction. Thanks for reading!

" _The story goes like this,"_ she read. _"In a time long forgotten, and a land long swallowed by old empires and older kingdoms, there once was a demon king who fell in love with a witch."_

"Isn't that book in Russian?" Leonard interrupted, shifting on the blankets beside her.

Sara glanced up from the yellowed page. "We are in Russia, after all."

He blinked, the corner of his mouth twitching. "You don't say? And here I thought we were in the Poconos."

Sara smirked, flipping a page. "Not surprised you're disoriented after that ass kicking."

"It was such a lovely party until then." He let out an exaggerated sigh. "Weren't you supposed to be protecting me?"

"I was getting the artifact," she said, innocently.

"I was supposed to get the artifact while _you_ took care of the guard," he said, drily.

"I had to improvise," she shrugged. "No thanks to you. Then I had to drag your beaten ass through the snow."

"You can hardly blame me for the blizzard," he drawled, scooting closer to peek at the book. Sara snatched it away, wiggling herself out of reach.

"No," she admitted, giving him a warning look, "but it's lucky I found this place. We could've died out there."

" _You_ found it?" His eyebrow twitched. "I'm the one who spotted the cabin."

"You were supposed to be looking for the jump ship," she grumbled.

"How rude of me."

"I got the fire started too," Sara added, "while you sat on your ass nursing that black eye." She itched at the lace of her stiff, white shirt. "Even Gideon would give you shit for it. Too bad she's not here."

Leonard rolled his eyes. "Alright," he said. "How long are you going to be mad about that serving boy?"

"I'm not mad." She thumbed through the book's pages, avoiding his gaze. "You can flirt with whoever you like. Just don't let it interfere with the job next time."

"I was interviewing him."

"Is that what they're calling it these days?"

"It's 1896," Leonard rubbed his temple. "These people are so sexually oppressed everything looks like flirting."

"Glad we agree."

"Sara–"

A howling wind shook the wooden walls of the cabin, and they both shivered. Their fine party clothes had been drenched trucking through the snow, so all they wore now were their elaborate undergarments, little more than thin nightshirts.

"Anyway," she deflected, holding up her book. "Are you gonna let me read this or not?"

Leonard fussed with the blankets, pulling one up higher. There was an old twin bed in the corner of the abandoned, one-room cabin, and they'd dragged the mattress over by the fire, piled with as many blankets as they could find. It would've been warmer if they'd decided to share them all, but Sara had made the unspoken executive decision to divvy them up, sitting on her side of the bed and busying herself with that damn book.

"She reads Russian," he mused, letting the subject drop. "You're just full of unusual skills."

"You haven't seen the least of them," Sara said, raising her eyebrows. "Now shush and listen."

"Alright," he sighed. "Carry on."

She cleared her throat, dropping her eyes back to the story.

" _In a time long forgotten, and a land long swallowed by old empires and older kingdoms, there once was a demon king who fell in love with a witch."_ She repeated. _"The demon king ruled over the winter kingdom. He was cunning and sly, with powers over ice and frost."_

"Ooo, remind you of anyone?" Leonard purred. "And I'm sure he was devastatingly handsome, too – ooph." Sara shushed him with a kick.

" _All the chyerti—the devils and spirits of the land—bowed to him,"_ she continued. _"Every man, woman and child feared him, from the smallest country village to the grand prince of Moscow. Even Baba Yaga herself was said to avoid him. Until, that is, the last snowflake melted in the spring. Then, he would fade into the shadows until the next frost._

" _But the demon king grew tired of sharing his lands and losing his powers year after year. And so, he devised a plan to steal the sun. For, without the sun in the sky, winter would never end, and he would rule the land forevermore."_

Leonard threw another log onto the fire. "Quite the heist."

" _He couldn't do it alone,"_ Sara agreed. _"He needed the help of the winter witch. She was dangerous and cold, beautiful and brilliant as freshly fallen snow. It was said she'd killed a thousand human men—but only those who dared lay harm to a woman."_

Leonard hummed. "I like the sound of her."

" _They'd been enemies and allies off and on as long as either of them could remember. With one of her spells and his strength added to hers, he knew they could do the impossible._

_The trouble was reaching her bewitched cabin. One could only find it if they forgot they were looking, and even then, only if she wanted to be found._

_But whatever she said otherwise, the witch always wanted him to find her._

' _I'll help you steal the sun, Gosudar,' she told him, appearing from a snowbank one cold and blustery evening. The demon king had been wandering the forest, letting his mind empty. And then her cabin was there, blowing smoke from the chimney into the starry sky. 'But,' she added, 'there will be a price.'_

' _Name it,' he said. 'You know how I love to bargain with you.'_

' _There will not be a bargain,' she said. 'And you will pay the price regardless. If your desire is great enough, the cost matters not.'_

_The demon king hesitated. Granting an unnamed price was a risk, but what choice did he have?_

' _It must be done,' he agreed._

_And so, the demon king and the winter witch stole the sun straight out of the sky. The effort nearly killed them. More than once, he saved her life. More than once, she saved his. But at last they had it, and the witch shrank it down for the demon king to wear around his neck. He thanked her, though he felt uneasy knowing a price would be paid eventually."_

"A score like that, maybe he couldn't pay." Leonard shifted then, stretching out on the mattress. He propped his head on his hand as he laid down, keeping a careful distance—little as it was—from Sara. She paused, watching him watch her, the firelight reflected in his eyes.

" _Much to the demon king's delight,"_ she read on, slowly, _"the night that followed stretched on and on. There was a crisp bite to the air that first day that never came. It grew sharper with each passing hour, the bitter darkness unyielding._

_In celebration, the demon king welcomed his subjects to his ice palace for a grand feast. They danced, they ate, and the demon king himself reveled in his victory._

_And then the winter witch arrived._

_The room quieted as she entered, riding on the back of a woolly reindeer, its hooves crunching through the snow. She was draped in starlight, wearing the night sky as a cloak about her shoulders. Her golden hair glowed in the candlelight, her eyes sparkling even from across the room._

_That was when the demon king realized the price he had paid for the sun._

_The witch had taken his heart._

' _Witch,' he whispered, watching as she slid down from her steed. She landed in a glittering cloud of snowflakes. 'What have you done to me?'_

' _Only what you've done to yourself,' she murmured._

' _If you wanted my heart, you could have just asked for it.' He bowed to her, offering his hand for a dance. 'You didn't have to claim it as your price.'_

_She paused, regarding him. 'You've never given anything freely,' she said, accepting it. 'But now your heart will be mine forever and a day, or until you return the sun to the sky.'_

_He spun her into his arms, twirling her to the icy dance floor as music swelled around them._

' _And what will you do with my heart?' He asked. 'Will you give me yours in exchange?'_

' _I don't have a heart to give, I'm afraid,' she said. 'But I will keep a close eye on it for you.'_

_They danced for hours, far into the next night, for the dawn never came. And then, just as suddenly as she appeared, the winter witch was gone._

_She didn't return._

_Nights turned to weeks and weeks to months, and still the demon king lorded alone over his winter kingdom, with no sign of the witch at all. In the realm of men, the people starved, huddled together on their ovens to stay warm and surviving on scraps. Without the sun, their crops could not grow. Their lands were barren._

_As barren and cold as the hole in the demon king's chest._

_He waited and waited for the witch to reveal herself. He paced the forest night after night, desperately thinking of anything but her. But he could not forget how badly he wanted to find her, and perhaps, for the first time, she did not want to be found._

_A year passed, and the demon king grew sick of his half-life. What did eternal power matter, when he felt no pleasure in it? He opened the locket at his neck and watched as the sun floated back to the sky."_

"He must have really loved her," Leonard said, his voice soft over the crackling fire.

"But he obviously didn't want to," Sara huffed.

"She was avoiding him," he said. "He missed her."

Sara's eyes fell, shadows of flames flickering across her face.

"You've been avoiding me," he added, so softly that Sara almost thought she'd imagined it. "Ever since I've been back."

"I have not," she said, but the words sounded false even to her own ears.

"Then why did I have to bribe Zari to let me take this mission with you?"

She moved the book back up to cover her face, fixing her eyes on the page. "That's ridiculous," she frowned. "Let me just finish the story."

She didn't see the way Leonard frowned, studying her in the dark.

" _In the villages, the people rejoiced. Even the chyerti were glad to see the forever night come to an end, for they were hungry for human gifts and offerings. The snow and ice began to melt, and the world began to thaw._

_But the demon king despaired. He had returned the sun to the sky, and yet, his heart was still not his own._

_That night, he wandered into the nearest village, at a loss. The people were holding a winter festival, with hanging lanterns casting a warm, golden glow on the snowy paths. Fat snowflakes fell all around, and he held his hands open to catch them, savoring the power it gave him, breathing in the smell of smoke-tinged night and pine._

_And then she was there, haloed by the lantern light, a furry cap covering her hair and a hand resting on her reindeer's side._

' _Good evening, Gosudar,' she said, her eyes wide and watching._

' _Good evening,' he echoed, astounded by the sight of her. 'How…what brings you here tonight?'_

_She frowned. 'You were that desperate to be rid of me?' Her words sent whorls of smoke through the evening air. 'You gave up your power to be released. I didn't realize I was such a burden.'_

_An icy fist clenched the demon king's chest._

' _I was that desperate to find you,' he hissed. 'You hid from me for a year. I had to draw you out.'_

' _I wasn't hiding,' she huffed. Her reindeer chuffed in agreement, stomping a woolly hoof. 'You know exactly how to find me.'_

' _I couldn't.'_

_His words fell hollow in the snowy night._

' _I couldn't forget how much I wanted you.' He let his arms hang limp by his sides, defeated. 'Since you stole my heart.'_

_The witch's face fell, stricken. 'I never took your heart,' she said. 'It was your own to give all along.'_

' _You…' The demon king's eyes widened in shock. 'Then what was the price for your help?'_

' _I never took one.' Her voice was a wisp in the air. 'I can't take anything from you. Not anymore.'_

_The demon king let his head fall, his brow knitted in thought._

' _Well…' He faltered, casting his eyes about the square and landing on the bathhouse. 'I only came into town for a bath,' he said, eventually. The lie was more comfortable than these truths. 'If you don't mind, I'm going to have one.'_

_He turned his back on the witch, but still he felt her gaze on him like a hand. He let the dark warmth of the bathhouse swallow him whole, shutting out her probing eyes."_

"What a misunderstanding," Leonard tutted, a knowing tone to his soft voice.

"You _were_ flirting with that server," Sara snapped, rolling her eyes.

"And what would it matter to you if I was?" Leonard countered.

Sara's mouth thinned to a hard line. "Absolutely nothing," she said.

"Sara," he insisted, but she ground on.

" _The air was hot and close in the bathhouse,"_ she read.

" _The demon king stripped off his heavy velvet robes, his skin already hot and itching. He splashed water on the hot stones, breathing in the steam as he worked to quell his tangled thoughts._

_But no sooner had he sat himself on the bench than cold air rushed through the bathhouse, setting the candles swaying._

_The witch had followed him inside._

' _Only demons and witches would take a bath at midnight,' she murmured._

' _How fitting, then.' He frowned, watching her through the haze of steam and darkness. He couldn't quite make out her expression, but she didn't seem perturbed by his nakedness. Rather, she began stripping herself._

_Her furred hat fell heavy on the floor. Then she unhooked her cape and let it pool about her feet. Her dress simply faded away of its own accord. She stood a moment, as if granting him the grace of taking in her beauty, the sight of her perfect curves shining with sweat in the firelight. Then she sat beside him._

_They were quiet a long while. Finally, the demon king spoke._

' _Why didn't you tell me the truth?'_

' _You thought I'd bewitched you into loving me. If it was such an outrageous idea, I'd rather not stoop to explain.' She folded her arms over her chest. 'It was embarrassing.'_

' _I should have known it was stupid,' he muttered. 'You hid from me so long you obviously never wanted to give your heart to me.'_

' _You already had it.'_

_Their eyes caught. Hers burned in the darkness._

' _I gave it to you a long, long time ago,' she said. 'And you never even knew.'_

_The demon king closed his eyes, wondering how he could have been such a fool. Then he shifted, stepping down off the bench to kneel at the witch's knees._

' _I was afraid,' he said._

' _Afraid?' She scoffed. 'Of loving me? I'm not that terrible.'_

' _Of loving anything.' He placed a hand on her thigh, his touch light as a snowflake. 'Love is a mortal thing, because it goes hand in hand with loss. With grief. To live an eternity with such a burden would be a torment.' His fingers curled across her skin. 'But that is the price I would pay for the chance to love you.'_

_He lifted his hand up, carefully, slowly, then let it rest against her cheek, sweeping his thumb along her jaw._

' _Please,' he said, just as she closed the distance and kissed him."_

A long silence fell over them as Sara stopped reading. She lowered the book, staring at Leonard over the cover.

"Sara," he said, the word achingly gentle. His fingers twitched forward, softly grazing her ankle. It was a motion so tentative, so pleading, it almost brought a tear to her eye. "I'm sorry," he said.

"Sorry?" She choked, letting the book fall closed even as she gripped it tightly in her hands. She held it over her chest like a shield. "I know you weren't flirting, I was just—"

"For leaving." He swallowed. "I'm sorry I left. I didn't want to."

"You didn't leave," she said, "you died."

She blinked, her eyes suddenly wet.

"Don't you think…" she paused, licking a tear from her lip as her eyes drifted up, then squeezed closed. She took a breath, letting it out in a shaky sigh. "Don't you think," she tried again, "I spent every goddamned night wondering what if?"

She surged forward then, and Leonard sat up and back, surprised. Sara followed, grasping his face in her hands.

"Don't you think it killed me thinking what if I'd taken your place?" She drew his face closer, her eyes boring into his. "What if I hadn't let you go at all? What if I'd made you leave, what if I'd said we'll find another way?" Her voice broke, cracking with the snap of a flame. "What if I'd looked for you sooner? What if—"

"Let's find out." He inched closer, setting his hands on her waist. "We can write our own story now." He dropped his head, and Sara's hands slid to his neck. He looked up at her from under his eyelashes.

"We were never the heroes of our own stories, you and me," he said, tucking a loose hair behind her ear. "We were never meant to live past the first chapter, let alone make the sequel. We were never meant to steal the show." The corner of his mouth lifted, a wry ghost of a smile. "But here we are. And no one else is writing the script anymore. It's all up to us."

He let his forehead rest against hers, his hands a reassuring pressure at her hips. "How's the story end, Sara?"

She wrapped her arms around his neck, sinking into him, their silhouettes becoming one against the glow of the fire.

"Well," she murmured. "I think the demon king and the witch were about to do it."

Leonard chuckled, a warm sound that reverberated in his chest. Sara sat back until she could meet his eyes again.

"How's our story end?" He asked, his thumb wiping away the last of her tears.

"For starters," her voice lowered, "these scratchy undershirts should come off."

He hummed in agreement, his fingers drawing circles at her hips for a moment before he took a deep breath. Then he lifted his long and ruffled night shirt over his head in one fluid motion. His eyes met hers as the fabric fell to the floor with a _whump_ , watching her drink in the sight of bare skin and lean muscle and scars. He smirked, and her gaze snapped back up, her eyes dark and wanting.

"Need any help?"

Her face relaxed into a smile as she gathered her own shirt in her hands, shifting to lift it up from her legs, over her hips and finally over her head, revealing her own skin and muscle and scars. Leonard took his own turn with stunned appreciation, his eyes traveling her body like he was studying a map, or planning a very intricate heist.

"What next?" His voice had dropped octaves by the time he looked up again.

He watched the gentle rise and fall of her chest as she took a breath.

"Remember those nights on the Waverider you couldn't sleep, thinking of all the things you didn't do?" She asked, her eyes fierce and steady.

"Yes…"

He watched as she shifted forward, closing the distance between them again.

"When you thought about me? And you? And me and you?"

"Yes…"

She took his hands, placing them back at her hips, her knees fitting neatly between his.

"I want you to do all of it." Her hands trailed up his arms, smoothed over his shoulders and wrapped around him. "Everything you thought we'd never do. Starting with this."

She closed her lips over his, the motion so soft and perfect his heart stuttered in his chest.

"And this," she said, kissing him again, letting her mouth linger now, a slow promise of more.

His fingers trailed up her sides and down again, sending a shiver down her spine. "This is going to take awhile," he said, smiling against her mouth.

"Good thing we've got no where else to be," she breathed.

Then they were both smiling and kissing, hearts racing and breathless. He lifted her up enough for her to wrap her legs around his waist, then laid her back against the blankets, following her down.

"How does our story end, Sara?" He asked, letting his head hover over hers, shivering as another wind braced the cabin. She tugged one of the blankets free, draping it over him and giving his ass a playful squeeze.

"Leonard," she laughed, her hands drawing cool lines of fire across his skin. "It doesn't. This is just the beginning."

His lips captured hers again, and her mouth parted, sighing into the kiss. A quiet settled over them then, broken only by the soft sounds of kisses, and the dying fire, and her leg grazing against his. Every touch, every caress was languid and slow, lingering and memorizing.

Eventually, he dipped his head to her neck, trailing his lips from her jaw to her collar bone, to her breast and her navel, tongue and teeth dragging lightly over her skin. A small moan escaped her, and she could feel his smile against her stomach as he lifted a hand to trace the same path across her body. His mouth moved lower still, kissing the inside of her thigh and under her kneecap, lifting her leg onto his shoulder.

He gazed up at her then, just as his clever fingers found their way between her legs, and her eyes fluttered shut at the sensation. He pressed a kiss to her ankle as his fingers found a rhythm, light and soft touches turning faster, harder, as she moved against him. There was a pause, and she let out a keening noise of protest until his mouth replaced his hand, his tongue and lips more clever still. She gasped, and eternity passed in a heartbeat as her hands clutched for purchase, the world dissolving around her. She dragged his face back up to hers, her mouth finding his in messy, urgent kisses while her body rode out the shockwaves, his fingers easing her through it all.

They were both breathing heavy by then, the cold and wind forgotten. Sara reached between them, taking Leonard in her hand as her breath came out in a shudder. She let her hand stroke over him, relishing in the contrast of the hard muscle under soft skin. She wiggled lower, drawing him across her own wet skin, and they both paused, the motion lighting every nerve ending on fire.

Their eyes met. She slipped him inside her, the movement as easy and natural as breathing. They were still for a moment, blue eyes watching blue. Then he let his forehead fall against hers, drawing in a shaky breath.

"This is just the beginning," he whispered, and she wondered if he was reminding her, or if he needed the reminder himself. She nodded in agreement, lips parting for a breath just as he captured them in his again, and began to move with her. She could feel him tensing right from the start, going carefully slow, fingers of one hand gripping her hip as the other moved up to run through her hair.

"Just the beginning," he repeated, breathing the words into her ear and drawing a shiver as the pace increased. She wrapped her legs around his waist, needing him closer, deeper, faster, and he complied, his movements mirroring her thoughts as if he could read her mind.

They'd always been the best team—always read each other so well without any words between them. She should've known they'd be perfect together this way, too. Shouldn't have been so afraid to try. And maybe he was thinking the same thing, every kiss and touch turning more and more urgent, like he could make up for that lost time. It didn't matter if they could or not, in the end. They didn't need to. They lost themselves to the feeling of falling, the dark edges of the cabin fading to white, safe in each other's arms.

Later, they'd lay snug under their piles of blankets, with Sara tucked into Leonard's side.

"There once was an assassin who fell in love with a thief," she said, taking his hand in hers.

"There once was a hero who fell in love with a captain," he answered.

She smiled. "Can't wait to hear how that one turns out."

He dropped a kiss on her head. "Oh, it's a classic. Let me tell you the story."


End file.
